Monterey Street between 4th and 6th has been a happening place
for the last week
– if you like bulldozers. I like bulldozers, and backhoes and
dump trucks and all the other big noisy machines that move large
quantities of earth quickly.
Monterey Street between 4th and 6th has been a happening place for the last week – if you like bulldozers. I like bulldozers, and backhoes and dump trucks and all the other big noisy machines that move large quantities of earth quickly.
I used to spend a lot of hours watching bulldozers back when my kids were small. If I still had little ones at home, I would definitely be taking a field trip to Monterey Street one of these fine sunny days.
They have a machine as big as a Stegosaurus that chews up asphalt and moves it up a conveyor belt to tumble into a dump truck. No kidding. I would go have a cappuccino at Sue’s and buy my little kids a cookie each and sit in the front of Sue’s and watch the street get torn up, if I had any little kids. I don’t, so I skip the cookie part.
The workers are moving, too. I have seen no one leaning on a shovel, which is very unusual for construction workers. I imagine they want to get as much done as possible between rain storms.
The downtown merchants are not as enthralled with the construction as I am, unfortunately, because business is way down. Thursday morning I drove over to Fourth Street, past the Post Office, and parked on the street just before the twin signs that say “STREET CLOSED” and “Businesses Open.” I walked around the corner, pausing to admire the backhoe operator’s technique, to Clocks and Collectibles.
My errand downtown was to get a new watch battery. I have this great watch which not only tells me what time it is but also what the phase of the moon is. But it eats batteries like a SUV guzzles gas.
So I walked in and Larry said, “Can I help you?” and I gave him my watch and he figured out what battery I needed and installed it. Randy wandered in from the back room and asked what I thought of the new venue for our square dancing club. We are meeting at Gilroy Health and Fitness now. I told him that at first I found all the twenty-year-old bodies a little intimidating, but everyone seemed very nice. Maybe some of them will want to dance.
I asked Randy how business was, and he told me it was terrible. We chatted for quite a while, because I wanted an excuse to stay in the store. It is such a cool store.
They have clocks, of course: cuckoo clocks and grandfather clocks and wall clocks and mantle clocks, including the kind under a glass case with the four golden balls that endlessly circle clockwise, then counterclockwise, then clockwise. … My grandfather used to have a clock like that. They even have a sundial.
And they have watches, of course: wrist watches and pocket watches of various ages and antiquities and prices. They also have chains and wristbands for watches. If one needed a watch for Civil War reenacting, 7573 Monterey Street would be the place to go.
They also have the obligatory antiques and almost antiques. I think it is a clause in the deed of any shop on Monterey Street: “Regardless of the main business of the Establishment, antiques must also be offered for sale.” So they have some china and silver and paintings and several large frames, perfect if one happens to have a painting and no frame to put it in.
In addition to selling clocks, watches, and collectibles, Randy and Larry repair clocks, watches, and clockwork figures. They get orders from places as far south as San Diego and as far north as Alaska. Not much from Gilroy of late, though. Business is way down.
In his darker moments, Randy believes that the streetscape project is a deliberate plot by the city government to drive him and the other downtown merchants out of business.
If the city administrator and city council members and mayor wish to convince him otherwise, they should get their watches fixed or buy Mom a clock for Mother’s Day, and make sure to introduce themselves. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the downtown.
